As usual, this can be read as a stand alone or as part 4 of my Phryniverse series (A Time For Everything, The Art Of Taming An Ocean, Blood and Stone). There will be sex, drugs and murder - alot of it - as well as erotic fruit salad and unapologetic soppiness. Please proceed with care and enjoy ;).

Chapter 1: Lemon

He should have known! In retrospect, he would always be aware how silly it had been to ever think he could hide something from Phryne Fisher. But then again, we always know better afterwards.

It was a bright, sunny January afternoon and Detective-Inspector Jack Robinson had come home from work early, mostly because really there was nothing much to do. The heat wave sweeping over Melbourne seemed to suffocate even the most persistent of criminal activity. That and his office was currently very much resembling an oven. Here, in the parlour with the aquamarine coloured walls, the heat was bearable, which was probably owned to the fan working overtime as well as the one or other secret trick, Mr. Butler had up his sleeve. Jack was not quite sure what they were, but they smelled faintly of lemon.

He had as it was, more out of pure necessity than actual want, ditched his coat and vest, since he feared he would die of a heat stroke otherwise and was presently setting up the chess board while Phryne slipped into something less comfortable, that would most likely end with him losing this game out of pure lack of blood in his brain. Jack was just positioning his pawns, when she took a seat across from him, smelling of a perfume that she had never worn before. He knew that moment, that they would likely skip dinner.

"New?" He asked, then looked up from his pieces and stopped breathing. She followed his eyes to the small square box in her hands.

"I rather think it is."

Jack Robinson's watched on, as she sat the corpus delicti down in the middle of the chessboard. Then he looked up again, remembering to close his mouth.

"A beautiful piece." She smiled sweetly, picking up her king.

"I see..." He stopped and cleared his throat. "I see you found my present. Even though I am not sure how you ended up in my sock drawer."

She looked up, held his gaze. Of course she didn't believe him.

"You seem to have gotten your dates mixed up. I recall that my birthday was three weeks ago and you presented me with a beautiful necklace."

He picked up the ring box, shoving it into his pocket to win time.

"I never said it was a present for you."

Miss Fisher didn't answer. In fact, she seemed to have run out of questions, which was just as well, as he had run out of lies to tell her. She just set up her pieces in silence. The humming of the spinning fan was the only sound for a while. Finally, she opened with a pawn.

"Well, silly me. I thought for a moment, you might have forgotten that I am not the marrying type."

He pretended to ponder his move, trying for a casual tone of voice.

"Believe me, Miss Fisher, I am very well aware of that."

She fixed him with a penetrating stare, then rose to pour herself a drink behind him and Jack took the opportunity to rub both hands over his hot face. So that was that. Check-mate! And he hadn't even had the chance to make a move yet.

Phryne returned, setting a glass of lemon-water beside him so gently that Jack wondered, if she was making amends. There was no need for that. It was not like she had ever pretended that she wanted to get married. He was just being a fool. An old-fashioned fool, pushing his luck, when really he had everything and more he could have ever hoped for. For being so happy, his chest felt awfully tight right now.

"You know, the first move is generally considered rather easy."

Jack Robinson heard her smiling voice break through his thoughts. He blinked. Of course. The game. His fingers grabbed his knight, before he knew what he was doing.

"Unexpected." A pair of red lips said after a pause. "Maybe a bit silly, but certainly interesting."

He didn't get to answer, as an arrival at the door pulled their attention away from the game.

"God, it is bloody hot out there." Doctor MacMillan swore, when she stepped through the door. Mr. Butler smiled politely at her crude words. He looked, despite this weather, absolutely immaculate, Jack noticed with a hint of envy. Even though his detective-eyes had spotted something new about the Butler. A new vibe surrounding him, a new glitter in his eyes. He wondered...

"Oh, it's heavenly cool in here, I tell you that." Mac said loudly, instead of a greeting and dropped onto the love seat. "I have not interrupted you two love birds, have I?"

"Hardly, unless you are talking about me losing this game of chess." Jack Robinson said, gesturing at the small table.

"Jack, you are being silly. We have hardly started." Miss Fisher pointed out, a sparkle in her eyes and made her next move. "What brings you here, Mac? Or have you just grown tired of sitting behind your baking desk?"

"Well, I thought it was a rather good idea to leave, before the bloody thing catches fire." Mac grumbled. "But in fact, I need to talk to you, Phryne. In private. No offence, Jack."

"That's alright, I do have things to do as it is."

The Inspector pulled himself up, longing for the protection of his usual armour. He felt almost naked in his shirtsleeves, which to his surprise had less to do with Mac's appearance than with the cold shower he felt he had just received from Phryne. He was actually quite happy to escape so he could sort his thoughts. The two women watched him go, before Miss Fisher turned to the doctor, setting a drink down before her.

"Tell me, since when do you call him Jack?"

Mac drained her glass before answering.

"Since Dot's wedding. We had a bit of a bonding experience there." She laughed at her friends confused face. "But that was not really what I wanted to talk to you about."

She patted the seat beside herself and Miss Fisher obediently sank onto the cushions.

"I need your help, Phryne. As a detective."

"Is your lover cheating on you?" She smiled, sweetly.

Mac rolled her eyes at that.

"You know very well, I don't have one at this point in time. No, I have a patient who has lost her memory and I need you to help me find out who she is."

Intrigued, Phryne listened. A girl, somewhere in her 20s had been washed up on the river bank about two month before, with a heavy head wound. She had woken after a week, recovered well, but her memory was lost and no background to be made out.

"So, why was this something that Jack couldn't hear?" Miss Fisher finally asked. "In fact, if she is the victim of a crime, I think the police might be a good place to start."

Elisabeth MacMillan chewed on her lip.

"The police were involved when she was found, but came up with no results. Emily, that's what we call her, doesn't want to consult them again. In fact I'm pushing her trust by coming to you. I'm quite sure she's been raped the night she was injured, Phryne. So this is a sensitive case. I don't want the girl to get hurt any more."

Miss Fisher nodded slowly. A part of her wanted to curl up in the corner and weep, the rest of her demanded justice. Rape was something that made her blood boil and her head spin in equal amounts. It seemed inhumane in a way that even murder wasn't.

"Right, so where do I start?"

"Come talk to her tomorrow at the hospital. She is still going to be with us for a few days before I have to find some other place for her to stay. I'll try and prepare her gently for your arrival."

"You make me sound like a monster." Miss Fisher laughed.

Mac didn't answer. She had seen the look on Jack's face as he had all but run up the stairs. The doctor had an inkling of what that was due to. Phryne had found out. And the poor man had probably taken the full impact of her denial.

X

The poor man was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to be sensible. It didn't matter, he attempted to convince himself, for the hundredth time, while undoing his cuff links. Phryne was committed to him, had proven it over and over again. Marriage wouldn't change a thing about that. And yet... He couldn't explain it. Maybe it was just that he wanted to share her name, show the world where his heart lay. Be not her undefined houseguest, her live-in-lover, the shadow sneaking into her bedroom at night. But he wasn't. There was no sneaking, because he wasn't ashamed of anything. He loved her and she loved him and that was that. So why on earth did he have to risk that by trying to struggle her into a mould that she didn't want to fit into?

Jack took the ring box out of his pocket, snapping it open. The black diamond sparkled at him as he ran his fingertips over the curls of metal. He felt himself calm down, breathing again. Because he needed to give her this, he realised. He needed to be hers, not the other way round. Phryne Fisher might be a modern woman, but he wasn't a modern man. The Inspector snapped the box shut, and sat it down beside him on the bed. Then picked it up again, slipping it into the drawer of his nightstand. At least he didn't have to hide it anymore. Sighing, he let himself fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. How did you solve a riddle, when you didn't even know the first line?

X

Phryne Fisher was annoyed when she got up from the dinner table. She fully understood that Jack was angry with her. She was angry with herself, too. The truth was, she had found the ring box purely by mistake, while returning a pair of forgotten socks – a sharp reminder to never do housework. And she had panicked. Marriage wasn't something she had ever wanted or considered. Things were wonderful as they were and she just couldn't understand, why Jack wanted to change that. Or was she imagining things? Was he unhappy? The tears pricking at the back of her eyes at that thought, raised her annoyance to cosmic proportions and she was positively steaming when she stormed up the stairs to confront him. Skipping dinner and pouting in his bedroom really was most childish. The second she ripped his door open, her rage evaporated. Jack Robinson was lying across his bed, still in his trousers, but his shirt half undone, with the sleeves rolled up and his eyes closed. His dreams must have been sweet ones, as he was smiling. Maybe she hadn't hurt him as much as she'd feared. The drawer of his night stand was not properly closed, not even attempting to hide the ring box from her trained eye. With a glance at his sleeping frame, Phyrne pulled the offending jewellery out and had another look at it. It really was the most beautiful ring and her heart beat faster at the thought of how much it must have taken him to chase down a black diamond in Melbourne. They were indeed rare – just like him. The Inspector stirred in his sleep and she hastily slipped the box back where it belonged. A thought crossed her mind. Slowly, gently, she started undoing his remaining buttons, listening with half an ear for any changes in his breathing. He must have been quite far off, as he didn't stir at all till she had reached his belt buckle. With a quiet grunt he shifted slightly, but didn't open his eyes. Phryne let her breath escape and returned to her work. When she had finally succeeded and closed her lips around him, she felt for a split moment how Jack's whole body went rigid, as if she had just shaken him out of sweetest dreams – hopefully into an even sweeter reality. He pulled himself up slightly, looking at her with sleepy, surprised eyes, an involuntary groan escaping his throat. With a smirk she watched as he licked his dry lips, trying to form a sentence.

"What...?"

However that question would have ended, it died on his lips, as she deepened her efforts and a wave of lust washed every capability of his brain away. Jack let himself sink back onto the bed and allowed his body to fall into the sensations running through it. God, she was good at this. In fact, the Honourable Phryne Fisher was presently content to make Jack forget everything about their afternoon conversation and all other pain she might have ever caused him, by the swipe of her tongue and the kiss of her lips, listening in joy to the way his breathing picked up and his groans got heavier. She had learned to read him, knew the moment he would topple over the edge and as usually, she was there to catch him when he fell.

Once Jack had caught his breath, he stretched out his hand in longing.

"Phryne?"

It was only a hoarse whisper, but she knew what he wanted. Obediently she crawled onto the bed and snuggled into his side, feeling his arms wrap around herself. The smugness she had felt a minute ago, had evaporated, leaving only a strange feeling in her gut that brought those bloody tears back. Jack had noticed it too, she found with a start, his eyes were fixed on hers while he gently brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

"Are you alright?" He asked, hardly audible.

Phryne nodded her head, her throat was too tight to come up with any smart replies. She had no delusions as to him believing her, but he pulled her closer all the same and she felt her eyes shutting on their own accord. So she lay on his naked chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and wondered, why it always had to be this way. In the end, every man wanted something that she wasn't willing to give and Jack... Jack, was different, wasn't he? He might understand. Suddenly it seemed like the worst idea she had ever had to confront him with the ring. But then, she couldn't have waited till he brought home the red roses and went down on his knee. Why did he have to do this to them? It was just not fair! Jack startled her somewhat by stroking her head. Had she sobbed? Phryne pulled herself up to look at him and was surprised to find nothing but love in his eyes. No anger, no hurt, not even disappointment. She wasn't sure why that unsettled her so much, but she forgot all about it as he pulled her into a passionate kiss. When they resurfaced, Phryne found herself flat on the bed, still completely dressed but with the heavy weight of a smirking Inspector on top of herself.

"I think, Miss Fisher, you owe me a rematch."

"Do I now, Inspector?" She teased, surprised but thankful for the sudden mood change.

"You won the first round by unfair methods. I demand justice."

And Phryne Fisher was, as it turned out, all for justice.